


Chest to Point

by tommiwithaquill



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3389330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommiwithaquill/pseuds/tommiwithaquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"First of all, I was not trying to kill you." Connor and Oliver meet when Connor accidentally almost stabs Oliver with a cutlery knife. What exactly is the Rudy Incident, and why does Oliver think Connor is a murderer with a knife on Valentine's Day?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chest to Point

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a fill for the Valentine's Coliver event on Tumblr - but it might grow into something bigger! Please let me know if you would like to see more! 
> 
> Prompt given by sulkybbarnes: First of all, I was not trying to kill you." Connor and Oliver meet when Connor accidentally almost stabs Oliver with a cutlery knife, and things only get wilder after that.

“This is the kitchen.” Annalise Keating held out a hand, presenting the place proudly. There were multiple ovens, a farmhouse sink, and a huge walk-in freezer. It was definitely far more intimidating than the cozy backroom Oliver was used to. The new-hire listened intently, trailing behind her as she continued the tour. “Of course. Your only real priority is this area. Keep it clean and functioning. It cost me a fair amount of money, especially after the Rudy Incident.” 

The Rudy Incident?

Oliver wasn’t so sure he wanted to know. Curiosity compelled him to ask but his wariness of the strong presence that was Mrs. Keating kept his mouth firmly shut. He was lucky to have landed this position. He knew that - was reminded of it frequently by his more successful older brother, and he wasn’t about to ruin it by being nosy. “I’ll make sure everything is as it started when I leave each night,” Oliver said quickly. 

“As if I haven’t heard that before,” Annalise scoffed. “Show me with actions, Mr. Hampton. Your first shift is tomorrow morning. Six sharp. If you’re a minute late don’t bother coming in the door. Ever.” Oliver figured that was the end of the tour when she walked away from him. Annalise was a busy woman, after all. Running one of the most renowned food establishments in Philadelphia. Rumor told that even Gordon Ramsay had stated it should be three stars, instead of the two (out of three) that it had on the Michelin system. 

Oliver took a final look at his new workspace and touched the oven reverently. His samples had obviously impressed Annalise, since she had hired him - but Oliver wasn’t so sure she liked him as a person. He resigned himself to showing up early the next morning, and planned on working himself into the ground to put out amazing dishes for every ticket.

\-----

Despite favoring the later hours, Oliver was up at 4am. He walked through the doors of “Abalone” (formerly known as “Keating’s Abalone”) at 5am sharp and immediately headed for the kitchen. Annalise had told him during his third and final interview that the place would be locked down at 12am and unlocked by 5am, which was how he had known he could get in before his technical start time. Oliver wanted to get a feel for his new station and prepare some of the more elaborate dishes he had seen on the menu. 

He didn’t exactly expect to come chest to point with a very, very sharp knife. Oliver’s double-breasted jacket slipped from his arms and onto the floor as he yelped, throwing himself back and knocking over several pans in the process. The noise was almost as startling as the knife itself. “Don’t kill me! I - I don’t have any money, I swear. I’ll go and get my wallet from my locker if you’re in that hard of a place. I can even make you some food! Just don’t kill me!” In his terrified state Oliver ended up rambling to the glint of metal, his hands held up, jacket at his feet. 

Oliver didn’t dare to breathe when the knife lowered. “First of all, I was not trying to kill you.” The voice vibrated deep in Oliver’s stomach. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. How could _sound_ be so attractive? “Second.” There were suddenly fingers in his line of vision, pushing his teetering glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “You need to be more careful when you come into the kitchen.” 

A thief was scolding him. Why was he just standing there? He knew needed to do something, but he was frozen. Either from panic or the allure of that voice. There was a blur of white as the stranger bent down, and it took Oliver a second to realize he was looking at a broad back and lopsided toque. The thief, no - a chef, had retrieved Oliver’s jacket and was pulling it around Oliver’s shoulders and tucking his arms into the sleeves. “There.” The stranger buttoned up Oliver’s jacket and let his arms fall back down, knife abandoned on the countertop. 

“You must be Oliver.” His head finally snapped up when his name was spoken. “Annalise said you would be jumpy. I’m Connor Walsh.” There was a brief wipe before one of those hands was offered. Oliver took hold of the warm fingers more out of habit than actual coherence. 

“I-it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Somebody who looked like Chef Walsh would never speak to him in real life. Never say his name like that. He quickly realized he was lucky for more reasons than the job. Oliver swallowed and quickly looked away from Connor. “Uhm. Walsh. Y-you’re the head Chef. Right?” 

“The pleasure is mine, Oliver.” Connor paused before answering with a short “yep”. He turned from Oliver then and pulled the knife back into his hand. “Now. Why don’t you get started on impressing Annalise? I’d start by picking up those pans you knocked down.” Connor’s nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed, though not in a mean way. 

“H-how did you...?” 

“You think you’re the only employee who shows up early? All of us are on the same mission. This kitchen works flawlessly, and we’re all constantly in competition. It’s what makes our situation so interesting to the press. So get used to being a center of attention, and don’t slip up. This place is brutal.” Oliver looked over at him as Connor chopped off the leg of a fresh chicken with a loud _thwump_ , an almost maniacal grin on the Chef’s face. 

“Especially for a _baker_.”


End file.
